Remus Alone
by Violet Redmoor
Summary: Remus' point of view on the night Voldemort was defeated by baby Harry. Yes, I know it's been done many times before. I wanted to do my version.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, and I do not own Remus Lupin (dammit) or any of the other characters etc.  
  
Rating: G  
  
Description: Remus' point of view on Lily, James and Peter's deaths and Sirius' betrayal.  
  
A/N: Yes, I know it has been done several thousand times already. I wanted to do my version; it's a part of the story that just cries out to be written. If you don't like it, don't read it.  
  
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The first bang startled Remus Lupin out of his fitful doze. Not sure what had woken him, his hand went straight for his wand and he jumped to his feet. He glanced around the room warily. There did not seem to be any immediate danger, but the fire was nearly out, and night had fallen while he had slept. Relaxing slightly, he sank back into his chair and waved his wand to set the fire burning brightly again. A second wave lit all the candles.  
  
The second bang was clearly outside; he jumped to his feet again, rushed to the window and peered through it. For a moment, the dingy curtains of the safe house framed an empty sky. Then there was a third bang, and a fourth, and suddenly scarlet and green stars were bursting across the clouds. More bangs in quick succession and several great, glittering streams of gold surged fifty feet into the sky, cascading earthwards in a series of crackling waterfalls.  
  
Before Remus could even begin to wonder what was happening, there were more bangs, cracks and fizzling from another direction and he turned to see yet more fireworks; pink and blue rockets, swooping ribbons of violet, explosions of silver and gold. A third set went up in the east even as he watched, a violently orange Catherine wheel whizzing into his vision.  
  
His heart racing, he ran upstairs for his cloak. Muggles might not notice anything more than several impressive fireworks displays a week or so early, but he had yet to see the Muggles that could make fireworks like those.  
  
He was not the only person rushing into the street to stare, but all the others he saw were Muggles. Coming to his senses when one woman did a sudden double take at his robes and cloak, he returned to the sanctity of the safe house. Something had plainly happened in the wizarding world. He paced impatiently. Would someone arrive and tell him what was going on? He glanced at the clock on the wall to see that he had unwittingly slept most of the night; it was four a.m. Why were so many wizards awake at this hour, let alone awake and celebrating?  
  
He reached a decision. He could wait here until someone from the Order showed up, but if they were not asleep as any sensible person would be, they would probably have their hands full with whatever had caused this disturbance. He did not think he could wait however long it might take for them to reach him to find out. And they might need his help.  
  
He strode over to the fireplace and took a generous pinch of glittering Floo Powder from the pot on the mantelpiece.  
  
"Diagon Alley!" he exclaimed as the flames turned emerald green, and stepped into the fire.  
  
Despite the late hour, the first thing he saw when he clambered out of the grate in Diagon Alley was a thronging mass of people. Some of the fireworks he had seen seemed to be coming from here. Seconds after he arrived, a scarlet stream of stars poured from an upstairs window to burst in the sky. He could barely hear himself think over the shouts and cheers, the laughter and shrieks of the crowd. He eased himself into the street with great difficulty; he had rarely seen the street this busy during the daytime, even in Christmas shopping season.  
  
He could not see anyone he knew, but with strangers pressing close up to him from all sides that was hardly surprising.  
  
"What's happening?" he shouted, tapping the shoulder of a burly wizard in front of him.  
  
"Haven't you heard?" exclaimed the stranger. "He's gone!"  
  
"Gone? Who's gone?"  
  
"You Know Who!"  
  
The words sent a powerful jolt to Remus' stomach. Voldemort was the most feared dark wizard in centuries. Remus and his three best friends had done nothing but fight him since they left school. Well, James seemed to have found time to get married and start a family, but none of them had known a time when there was not Voldemort to be resisted, when there was not the fear that next time it would be you, or your loved ones. All four of them - and James' wife Lily - were in the Order of the Phoenix. If Voldemort was really gone it would mean everything to them and their friends and comrades. It would mean they could finally start living their lives. When the next wave of fireworks was set off, Remus found himself cheering with the rest of the crowd.  
  
"How?" he asked. "What happened?"  
  
The stranger shrugged, grinning widely. "No one seems to know! Someone said something about the Potters..." a surge of the crowd carried them both in different directions, but Remus barely noticed.  
  
The joy of the last few moments had suddenly vanished. He felt sick to the core of his soul, and the cold night air seemed to bite through his cloak. James and Lily. James and Lily had just barely escaped Voldemort three times already, but they did not have the power to destroy him, powerful witch and wizard though they were.  
  
Panic rising, he grabbed the nearest person to him. "Do you know what happened?" he demanded. "The Potters." Her indignation faded and she gave him a sad, understanding look. His breath caught in his throat.  
  
"You knew them, did you?" He nodded mutely. "Ah... I'm sorry, lad, so sorry..."  
  
"They're dead." His voice cracked as he said it. The witch he had accosted nodded. For a moment he just stood there, trembling, while the jubilant, celebrating crowd jostled and bumped him. The witch was watching him somewhat anxiously.  
  
Suddenly it was all too much. He forced his way out of the crowd, ignoring the cries and curses of the people he knocked into, stepping on no few toes. Staggering into the wall of the nearest shop, he sank to his knees in an alcove out of the way. The cheering and shouting continued over his head, everyone too happy that Voldemort was gone at last to realise that someone else had lost their dearest friends tonight.  
  
They had thought... they had all thought that the Fidelius Charm would keep James and Lily safe. Lily had performed it herself, Charms had always been her best subject, and no one should be able to find the Potters unless the Secret-Keeper told them how. Their Secret-Keeper had been Sirius Black, another of their and Remus' oldest friends. Sirius would rather die than betray James; they had been closer than brothers.  
  
Sirius would rather die.  
  
Remus got to his feet, his heart pounding, oblivious to the tears that had streaked his face. He had to find someone from the Order, someone who would know what was going on. He pushed past the bystanders, breaking into a run as he headed back to the fireplaces.  
  
He did not go back to the safe house, nor did he go home. He emerged seconds later, breathless and shaking, in the kitchen fireplace of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, a band of wizards and witches whose sole purpose was to do what they could against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is fanfiction. Therefore, I am not JK Rowling and I don't own anything.  
  
Rating: G  
  
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There was already a large group of people gathered around the table with white, drawn faces. The instant he stepped out of the fire he felt someone take his arm and lead him to a seat.  
  
"We... we hoped you'd come here..." Hestia Jones, her usually pink cheeks pale and stained by tears, handed him a large mug of coffee before taking her own seat again. Sturgis Podmore, never usually demonstrative, patted his arm comfortingly, and across the table Alice Longbottom let out a strangled sob. Suddenly self-conscious, he scrubbed at the tear marks on his own face, looking down at his mug. Their faces said it all; they had been worried about him.  
  
"What..." he could not bring himself to ask again what had happened. "What do we know?" he asked instead. Dumbledore was not there, the one person he would really have trusted to know the truth at the bottom of the rumours, but between them the members of the Order who had been waiting here in silence should have a pretty good picture.  
  
"James and Lily," whispered Hestia. "Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry. He... he turned up in Godric's Hollow. You-Know-Who. He... he killed them."  
  
Remus refused to look at any of them. "I know," he mumbled. "I heard. But... they're saying that Voldemort's gone?" Some of them flinched; even among the Order most people did not like to say the name of the wizard who had plagued their world for the last eleven years. Sirius and James had never been afraid of saying it, so Remus had been determined that neither would he.  
  
"We don't know for sure." Sturgis Podmore took up the narrative. "We're waiting for Dumbledore to confirm it, but what they're saying... What they're saying is that after he killed Lily and James." his voice cracked slightly. Even those who had not known the Potters well had liked and respected them. "He tried to kill their son. And something went wrong. It didn't work. No one really knows what happened, but when he tried to kill the little boy, he was... destroyed."  
  
"Harry's only a year old!"  
  
Sturgis and Hestia shrugged. Alice Longbottom was still crying quietly. Emmeline Vance, a witch he only knew vaguely, met his eyes with the same puzzlement.  
  
"We hope Dumbledore might be able to shed some light on it," said Sturgis. "As I said, no one really knows."  
  
Remus felt numb. He sipped his coffee without really tasting it, and cradled the mug in his cold hands.  
  
"But..." he said, trying to voice his biggest question. "How did he find them at all? Sirius..." he stopped. Not everyone had known about the Fidelius Charm or that Sirius was the Potters' Secret-Keeper. "Where is Sirius?" he asked instead.  
  
No one would meet his eyes. The panic began to swell up again.  
  
"Where's Sirius? What's happened to him?"  
  
"We've got people looking for him," muttered Emmeline Vance gruffly. No one would say any more, and their eyes still kept sliding away when he looked at them.  
  
They all think he's dead, he thought with a leaden certainty in the pit of his stomach. How could this be? He and his friends had seen so many deaths... Dorcas Meadowes, Gideon and Fabien Prewett... he did not like to think of what had happened to poor Benjy Fenwick, and they had killed not only Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon but their families too. But despite all the fear, despite the sinking resignation every time, to lose two of his three best friends in one night... He wondered vaguely where Peter was, the last of their group, but could not find the heart to speak again. They sat in silence, waiting for Dumbledore to turn up and answer all questions.  
  
By daybreak, he had still not arrived. Most of them still clutched their now-empty mugs, the cold dregs of coffee showing how long they had been sitting there. Emmeline Vance made breakfast, though no one did much more than pick at it, and one by one they disappeared for work. Their roles in the Order were kept secret, and even if Voldemort *was* gone - stopped by some miracle when he tried to kill little Harry Potter - the Order would still be needed. There would still be his followers to deal with.  
  
Remus had no job; no one would employ a werewolf. Frank Longbottom, who had arrived to collect his wife and take her home before they had to go to the Ministry, gave him a pitying look and suggested he help himself to one of the bedrooms upstairs. He mumbled something about waiting for news, but Frank would hear none of it.  
  
"Hestia will be back shortly to wait for Dumbledore," he said, kindly. "You need to sleep, Remus; I suppose you've been up all night? We'll be sure to wake you as soon as we hear anything. Go on. Get some sleep. Maybe it will seem more real afterwards." His face was tired and sad; he had known James and Lily too, of course.  
  
Remus knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to help look for Sirius, but he would not know where to start, and in any case the others had refused when he had tentatively suggested it. He had been tired before all this had happened; that was how he had come to fall asleep in the armchair at the safe house. He did not know how he would be able to sleep when all he could do was think of James and worry about Sirius, but his eyes were heavy and he supposed he ought to try and get some rest.  
  
"You promise to wake me? I don't want to miss anything."  
  
"Of course," promised Frank.  
  
Despite his grief and his worries, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. His tiredness would not wait while he dealt with his emotions, it seemed. When he was woken by the slamming of a door, having been plagued by terrible dreams of James, Lily, Sirius and Peter dying, he could see by the clock on the wall that it was mid afternoon.  
  
They had not woken him! Dumbledore must have come by now with news, and they had let him sleep despite Frank's promise. He jumped out of bed and hurried downstairs.  
  
Voices drifted up to him from the kitchen; not Dumbledore but Hestia Jones.  
  
"Any news?" she asked.  
  
"None," replied a slightly wheezy voice that Remus recognised as belonging to Elphias Doge. "No sign of Dumbledore yet, I take it?"  
  
"No," sighed Hestia. Remus stumbled to a halt on the stairs. He had been so sure that someone must have heard something by now.  
  
"Hmm. He couldn't tell me much last night; there wasn't much time. I don't suppose we'll know what happened until we hear it from him. There's all sorts of rumours flying around out there, but no one actually *knows* anything."  
  
"And Sirius?" Remus' heart leapt again. Elphias must have been one of those looking for his friend.  
  
"Nothing. Where are the other boys, do you know?"  
  
"Remus is upstairs, sleeping. He arrived early this morning, looking terrible. Poor thing." Hestia was only a little older than Remus and his friends, but everyone else still called them the boys. They were the youngest in the Order. He had been so proud when they had been invited to join. Dumbledore did not trust just anyone. "I haven't seen Peter... Come to think of it, no one's seen Peter for a while now."  
  
"I'll pass the word out to look for him, too," Elphias said. "I can trust you to make sure Lupin doesn't do anything stupid, Jonesy?"  
  
"Of course." Hestia hesitated. "Actually... he doesn't know, yet. He thinks Sirius is in trouble, maybe dead... No one wanted to tell him."  
  
"Maybe that's best. I don't know them well, but unless we have proof that Black has gone over to You-Know-Who, I expect Lupin would defend him to the death?"  
  
"You're probably right. You know... I have trouble believing it myself. If any of us were to turn traitor, I would have put him as one of the last. Did you ever see him with James? Or the baby? No one would ever have thought..."  
  
Remus stood frozen on the dark stairwell, unable to believe what he was hearing. How could they? How could they think that Sirius would ever betray them? Ever betray *James*? He wanted to rush into the kitchen and confront them, demand they take it back, but his feet seemed to be glued to the step.  
  
"That's what made him such a good spy," said Elphias darkly. "No one suspected him. Perhaps we should have done, considering his... background, but I'm as guilty of the oversight as the rest of you. But Dumbledore was positive when I spoke to him last night."  
  
*Dumbledore* was positive? Remus' certainty was suddenly knocked. Hestia and Elphias did not know about the Fidelius Charm, but Dumbledore did. It had been his idea. He remembered how they had explained it, saying that no would be able to find James and Lily unless the Secret-Keeper told them how.  
  
But Voldemort *had* found James and Lily. He had assumed that meant Sirius was hurt, but if Sirius had gone bad...  
  
"I'd better be going," sighed Elphias. "You know how to contact me when Dumbledore shows up?"  
  
"Yes, of course. You're sure you won't stay for something to eat?"  
  
"Thanks, Jonesy, but I've too much to do. We're still looking for Black, and if I'm going to try and find Pettigrew as well..." Their voices were getting louder. Remus wondered if he should go back upstairs before they realised he had heard - after all, said a nasty voice at the back of his mind, they did not want you to know at all - but before he could move they came out into the hall and saw him standing there.  
  
"Oh!" exclaimed Hestia, clapping her hands to her mouth. "Oh... oh, Remus..."  
  
His face was chalk white and his hands were trembling, gripping the banister so tightly that he could feel the metal biting into his flesh. Hestia looked absolutely mortified; Elphias looked grim but would not meet his eyes. He fought for something to say, some argument to convince them, but nothing would come. They did not know Sirius and James as he did; he had no proof but his certainty that Sirius would never, never bring harm to James.  
  
"You're wrong," he croaked eventually, and fled back upstairs to his borrowed bedroom. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. You all know that.  
  
Rating: G  
  
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More of the Order turned up as the afternoon wore on. They tried to convince him to join them in the kitchen for dinner, but starving though he was he could not face them, knowing they all thought Sirius - his Sirius! - a traitor. Eventually, Hestia Jones brought him up a plate and a bottle of Butterbeer. She kept trying to apologise for what he had overheard, but he knew she had not changed her mind, and he refused to listen.  
  
As the sky outside darkened, he paced and paced the room. Every now and again he glanced at the clock, impatient for Dumbledore to show up and explain just why he was so convinced that Sirius had gone over. Once or twice he tried to sit, but he was so full of nervous energy that he was back on his feet within seconds.  
  
It was almost ten o'clock when Dumbledore arrived. He heard the front door open and a low buzz of voices. Frank Longbottom called to him up the stairs.  
  
"Remus? Dumbledore's here." Remus wrenched open the door and clattered noisily down the stairs, storming into the living room with a face like a thundercloud. Before, he had only wanted Dumbledore to explain what had happened, why Voldemort had been unable to kill little Harry. Now he just wanted to leap to Sirius' defence. He saw Dumbledore standing by the fire and opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Dumbledore looked up at him and shook his head sadly.  
  
"I know what you are going to say, Remus," he said, his voice quiet. "I would give anything to be mistaken, but I know I am not." Remus' throat constricted so that he could not force out any angry words. Frank pulled him into an armchair and sat down beside him, plainly ready to restrain him if he could not control himself.  
  
Shaking with anger and feeling tears prickling in his eyes again, he tried to distract himself by looking round the room. Almost the whole of the Order were here; only Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid and Elphias Doge were missing. And Sirius and Peter. No one spoke, until a quickly revolving shape appeared in the fireplace and Elphias stepped out. Brushing soot from his robes, he took the last remaining chair, and everyone turned expectantly to Dumbledore.  
  
He sighed. "Most of you here already know the bare bones of last night's events. Lily and James Potter were killed by Lord Voldemort. Voldemort then tried to kill their son, Harry." Remus was waiting for him to mention Sirius, but he did not.  
  
"I do not know how Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. We may never know. But you may rest assured that he did."  
  
There was a collective release of a breath that the room had not realised it was holding.  
  
"You-Know-Who is dead, then?" asked Emmeline Vance.  
  
"Gone," corrected Dumbledore softly. "Not destroyed. He may never return, but he was not killed." That was sobering news; it even drove Remus' thoughts away from Sirius and James.  
  
All the others had questions for Dumbledore, but he could give them precious few details. No one doubted his word that Voldemort was gone, and that it was Harry Potter's doing, but no one could understand how a baby of one year old could withstand the dreaded Avada Kedavra curse. Dumbledore said the curse had rebounded, and that was what had destroyed Voldemort's power, but even he could not say how it had happened.  
  
When, at last, the questions had been exhausted, Dumbledore glanced at his watch.  
  
"I must be leaving. I have urgent business to attend. There is nothing more to be done for now; I suggest you all join the celebrations." Remus was not surprised that the celebrations had lasted over a day. There had been little in the way of good news for eleven years, and this was more than any witch or wizard could have hoped for.  
  
"Remus," continued Dumbledore as the others began to leave, "would you accompany me to the door?"  
  
Frank looked highly dubious as Remus got to his feet, as if not sure that this was the best idea, but he said nothing.  
  
"Remus," began Dumbledore when they were out in the hall, blocking Remus' attempt to get a word in first. "I am aware that you and Sirius were close. But you know as well as I do that Voldemort could not have found Lily and James unless Sirius had given up their secret."  
  
"He could have been forced!" objected Remus, his voice higher than he would have liked. "If Voldemort tortured him..."  
  
"Remus," interrupted Dumbledore, his voice kind, "I know you will not want to believe this. When these events have had time to sink in, perhaps... In the meantime, all I want to ask is that you will stay here, at Headquarters, until Sirius has been found. Will you do this?"  
  
"I..." he wanted to say no, say that if Sirius was not welcome here then he too would go somewhere else, but the truth was that he had nowhere else to go. The flat he shared with Sirius hardly seemed like a good idea right now. And even if he was to try and find Sirius, he had no idea where to start.  
  
"I will stay," he agreed finally. "You will... When you find Sirius, you will give him a fair hearing? You could be wrong..."  
  
"I will listen to what he has to say. You have my word."  
  
Suddenly more tired than he had ever been, despite sleeping most of the day, Remus accepted the promise with a silent nod. Dumbledore showed himself out, and Remus headed miserably upstairs to bed.  
  
He did not sleep so late the next day; he was awake by ten. Figuring that he would have to face everyone eventually, he decided that now was as good a time as any, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.  
  
Alice and Frank Longbottom and Sturgis Podmore were sitting at the breakfast table. They all stopped talking as he entered and his jaw tensed. They were obviously discussing Sirius again. Did they think he would not notice the sudden silence? Ignoring them until his temper was under control, he occupied himself by pouring coffee from the large jug that was keeping warm above the fire, and made some toast. Stilted conversation returned behind him.  
  
As he sat down, studiously avoiding their gaze, he saw the Daily Prophet lying to one side of the table. He reached towards it, but Sturgis quickly picked it before he got there.  
  
"What...?" They were all looking at him anxiously.  
  
"Remus..." began Alice, but she seemed to run out of words before she even started. Frank gestured to Sturgis, who hesitated but held the paper out wordlessly.  
  
The headline screamed at him in huge black type. "MURDER!"  
  
He blinked twice... and then saw the picture. Sirius was staring blankly out of the page. The caption beneath read "Sirius Black - now believed to have been You-Know-Who's second in command."  
  
"No..." he whispered, the bottom dropping out of his stomach. His mug fell from his hand and coffee leaked across the table. No one made any move to clean it up.  
  
"Yesterday afternoon, just when the wizarding community believed it was safe at last from the threat of Dark wizards, came proof that evil is still among us.  
  
In an attack which has shocked even hardened Ministry officials, a wizard was killed in broad daylight in a packed Muggle street. Twelve Muggles were also caught in the curse and are believed to have died instantly. Muggle bystanders were questioned before having their memory wiped and the Ministry have been able to construct an accurate picture of what occurred. The murderer was arrested at the scene, and has been identified as Sirius Black.  
  
Black is known to have been close friends with James Potter, one of the foremost wizards in the fight against You-Know-Who before his death two nights ago. Most believed Black to be part of the same resistance, but after yesterday's attack it has become apparent that he was in fact working as a double agent, leaking important information to He Who Must Not Be Named.  
  
Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes, Cornelius Fudge, gave the following statement:  
  
"Black has been detained by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He made no attempt to leave the scene of the crime, and put up very little resistance to arrest. This diabolical crime was the act of a cornered man; with You-Know-Who conquered, it seems that Black had gone on the run and was confronted by the dead wizard. The scale of the destruction, of course, immediately alerted Ministry wizards, and when they arrived at the scene Black would have realised that there was no way out for him. Once he had been safely contained, the Ministry clean-up squad set about eradicating the evidence of magic."  
  
Muggles have been told by the Office of Misinformation that the destruction was caused by a gas explosion. The Ministry would release no further details, although the dead wizard has been confirmed as Peter Pettigrew. However, an anonymous source who witnessed the clear-up operation told the Daily Prophet that Black's curse had totally destroyed the street. "I'll never forget what I saw," he said. "Black was standing at the edge of the crater, staring down at the pile of bloody robes in front of him, and he was laughing."  
  
Remus could read no further. He shoved his chair back from the table, dropping the newspaper into the spreading pool of coffee, and stood there shaking. With one trembling hand he pushed his hair back from his forehead.  
  
"Peter," he whispered. Peter had known, as he had, that Sirius was James and Lily's Secret-Keeper. When he had heard of their deaths, he must had leapt to the conclusion that Remus had been trying to avoid, and gone after Sirius. "Oh, Peter, why didn't you come to us?" 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, and as much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the Harry Potter world or characters.  
  
Rating: G  
  
A/N: This is the final chapter. Hope you liked it; I know it's not exactly original, but I enjoyed writing it.  
  
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Alice moved around the table as if to comfort him, and his last remaining shred of control snapped. With a howl of grief and anger, he fled the kitchen, running straight past Hestia Jones on his way up the stairs, and threw himself onto his bed. He could not fight the tears this time, and he did not try.  
  
The image of Sirius laughing haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes he could see it, as if it had been burned onto the insides of his eyelids. He had killed Peter. and laughed. How many times had he seen Sirius laugh over the years? He had always laughed more often than he frowned, in spite of everything.  
  
"Why?" he whispered, staring numbly at the ceiling. "Padfoot, my friend. why?"  
  
Several times people knocked on his door, asking to talk to him, trying to get him to come back downstairs. He ignored them all, lying on his back and staring upwards, not seeing the room but his friends. all lost to him now. The bright autumn sunlight shifted across the floor as the day came and went. He missed lunch. The sunlight faded and the sky turned lilac and grey and then black. Though three different people tried to convince him to come down for dinner he barely heard them and they all gave up in the end.  
  
"Remus?" The latest voice outside his door somehow penetrated the fog of misery.  
  
"May I come in?" asked Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Remus got to his feet, slightly dizzy after being still for so long, and crossed the room to open the door. Dumbledore took a chair by the window and Remus returned to the bed, sitting up now.  
  
"I am sorry," said Dumbledore simply.  
  
Remus could think of nothing to say.  
  
"You should not shut yourself away in here. The others are all worried. Of course you will need time to grieve, but you should not stay alone so long."  
  
"Peter..." said Remus, choking slightly. "What was he thinking? He could never have hoped to best S... Sirius."  
  
"I know. I can only suppose that James and Lily's deaths hit him hard and he was too overwhelmed with emotions to really consider the consequences of his actions. It will be little consolation, I know, but they have awarded him the Order of Merlin, First Class."  
  
"And Sirius... Sirius will be tried..." he broke off as Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"Bartemius Crouch is in charge of the case. It is likely that he will decide a full trial is not necessary, given the evidence. There will be a hearing, tomorrow, and it will be announced there."  
  
"I want to go," said Remus instantly.  
  
"I do not think that would be wise," said Dumbledore heavily.  
  
"Please, I..." he clenched his fist into the blankets. "I want to see him. I have to. He's... I'm the last... I'll keep my face covered, no one need know I'm there, but. Please."  
  
Dumbledore did not look happy about it, but he finally agreed, on the condition that Remus did not go alone. Frank Longbottom offered to accompany him, and with Dumbledore's word to get them into the Ministry, they found themselves sitting on the front row of benches. Remus kept his head down, the hood of his cloak pulled up. Frank had a surreptitious grip on Remus' arm, as if he was worried that Remus might do something rash without restraint.  
  
Remus could not watch when they brought Sirius out, between two Dementors. He was dirty and unshaven, his face was white and haunted, his feet dragged and stumbled. As they pushed him into the chair in the centre of the room, his blue eyes were darting feverishly around the room. They alighted briefly on Dumbledore, who met Sirius' gaze unflinchingly. He looked at Frank for a few seconds, too, but his eyes skimmed straight over Remus' head.  
  
Remus heard the rattle of chains as the chair bound Sirius, and forced himself to look back up as the Dementors left. Bartemius Crouch, presiding, was regarding Sirius with a look of utmost contempt.  
  
The hearing was swift and brutal. A Ministry wizard stepped forward to confirm that Muggle eyewitnesses had seen Sirius murder Peter. Dumbledore confirmed that Sirius had been James and Lily's Secret-Keeper. As the words left Dumbledore's mouth, Sirius groaned and turned his head away. Remus was crying again; he seemed to have done that all too often in the last few days.  
  
Dumbledore's assessment had been right; Crouch did not see the need for a trial. As he stood to announce to the room that Sirius would be sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life, the woman behind Remus stood abruptly. She was in such a hurry to leave that she knocked Remus right off the bench. His cloak fell from his face as he got back to his feet. Frank hurriedly pulled it up again, but Sirius had turned to see the cause of the commotion and had recognised Remus.  
  
His face suddenly stricken, he did not fight as he was unchained from the chair. The Dementors led him away, but he continued to stare over his shoulder at Remus, and he whispered something just before he was taken through the doors.  
  
"Oh, I knew this was a bad idea," muttered Frank, hurrying Remus from the Courtroom. Remus could scarcely concentrate enough to keep one foot moving in front of the other and allowed Frank to guide him. "Oh dear, oh dear. Whatever was that women in such a fury about?"  
  
"That was Sirius' mother," said Remus numbly. He had only seen Mrs Black once before, and had hoped never to meet her again. Frank was momentarily silenced.  
  
"Oh. Oh, poor woman..."  
  
"I doubt it," muttered Remus with a trace of anger. "She's probably prouder of him now than she ever was when he... when he was on our side. Just angry he got himself caught, I suppose." He sounded bitterer than he had intended.  
  
Poor Frank could not possibly know what to say to that. Flustered and attempting to change the subject, he did not really think before asking, "What was it he said, do you think?"  
  
Remus froze, clenching his jaw shut in an effort to control himself. He had always had the best eyesight of the Marauders; it had always been him who had lip-read and reported to the others when someone was trying to have a private conversation. Sirius - assuming he could think straight with a Dementor on either side - would have known that he had never lost the old skill.  
  
"He said 'sorry'." 


End file.
